


Little One

by pennedbymazoji



Series: Little One [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Caring Hannibal Lecter, Consensual Underage Sex, Cunnilingus, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, First Time, Hannibal Lecter Being an Asshole, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I'm Going to Hell, Incest, POV Second Person, Parent/Child Incest, Pedophilia, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Reader Is Thirteen, Reader-Insert, Underage Sex, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25963603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennedbymazoji/pseuds/pennedbymazoji
Summary: You've always been a daddy's girl. Hannibal pushes that just a little bit farther.//Please see the tags and author's note.//
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter/Reader, Hannibal Lecter/You
Series: Little One [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019679
Comments: 31
Kudos: 320





	Little One

**Author's Note:**

> Please, for the love of god, READ THE TAGS. This fic has the potential to be extremely triggering, as it involves actual father/daughter incest and statutory rape, even though it is portrayed as consensual. The reader character in this fic is only thirteen years old, and Hannibal is around canon age. Please do not interact with this fic if any of these will be triggering for you, or if you are a minor.
> 
> This work is not meant to condone, romanticize, or normalize incest and pedophilia. The behaviors and actions portrayed are reprehensible. I am working through my own issues by creating this, and I hope that those who experience similar issues might find this in some way cathartic. I was groomed by a father figure in my life from the age of twelve. Fanfic is how I take control of that situation and make it less triggering. Please keep that in mind before you decide to send me hate.
> 
> If you are in a situation where you are being taken advantage of by a family member, please tell someone that you trust or contact the local authorities.

For as long as you could remember, you were daddy’s little girl. You had no recollection of your mother, only knowing what Hannibal told you. They’d had a fling; she didn’t want you and had died soon after you were born.

Probably by his hand, which he refused to confirm or deny.

Despite the lack of a motherly figure in your life, you never felt deprived of love or affection, or even jealous of your classmates with traditional, nuclear families. Hannibal absolutely _doted_ on you. There hadn’t been a single school play or band concert that he wasn’t present for. He flew you around the world for vacations, brought you along to all of his social gatherings, and despite his increasingly busy schedule, managed to find time to cook extravagant meals every day and clean up after, so that you never had to lift a finger. Anything you wanted, you got in extremely short order.

That is, unless your body decided not to cooperate.

You whimpered in frustration, rolling your hips more forcefully into the pillow tucked in between your legs. It wasn’t _helping_. The pathetic woman assigned to teach your health class had explained arousal, yes, but hadn’t dared to provide information on how to deal with it at the tender age of thirteen. The few female peers you could stand offered their advice, including your current solution, but there was a distinct lack of relief that had the dark part of your mind scheming ways to slit their throats. You fought back tears, so focused on alleviating the ache between your thighs that you didn’t even register the sound of the door opening behind you and the footsteps approaching your bed.

“What’s the matter, little one?” Hannibal questioned, wrapping one arm around your stomach from behind to pull you up and back against him. You let out a squeak of surprise before allowing yourself to relax into his chest, your head falling back and eyes slipping closed.

“Daddy,” you whined, feeling the place between your legs twitch and clench in frustration. There’d never been anything in your life that Hannibal couldn’t fix. “It _hurts,_ I’m so hot… I need…”

“Oh, mylimoji, I know,” your father practically purred from behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His arms released you, causing you to fall forward. He stalked around your bed, rearranging the sheets and pillows that were out of place. He sat down, resting his back against the ornate wooden headboard and stretching his legs out in front of him. With a finger, he beckoned you toward him, and you crawled the distance between you until he could grab your arms and haul you up onto his lap, one of his thighs between your legs.

“Show me what you were doing to your pillow,” Hannibal murmured, putting one hand on your hip to encourage you to rock against him and pressing the other against the back of your head until you dipped forward, letting your forehead rest on his shoulder. You obediently began grinding against the hard muscle of his thigh, letting a small moan escape at the sensation. “Better?”

“ _Yes,”_ you breathed, turning your head slightly so you could nose at your father’s neck and inhale his scent. He always smelled like home, warm and safe, with hints of the herbs growing in the dining room clinging to his skin. Suddenly, you were overwhelmed with the urge to _taste_. You sloppily began mouthing and licking at his pulse point, reveling in the feeling of his flesh on your lips and tongue. Hannibal let out something akin to a growl, tipping his head to the side to give you better access and pulling your school skirt up to bunch around your waist. 

“That’s my pretty girl,” Hannibal praised you, running his fingers up and down either side of your spine. You shivered, your entire body feeling oversensitive while an unfamiliar, tingling pressure built up in your lower stomach. The breath from your lungs came in short pants against your father’s neck, interrupted every few seconds with small moans and cries as your hips moved faster. Hannibal’s lips stretched into a smile as you sunk your teeth in just above his collarbone, your fingers twisting and grabbing at the fabric of his suit jacket. “You’re so good for me.”

“Daddy, please,” you pleaded, unsure of what it was you were begging for. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, your voice pitching higher and higher every second. Hannibal’s hand traveled to your front, cupping one of your small breasts in his palm and kneading it as he murmured something, his voice low and husky. You couldn’t make it out, as the tension in your body suddenly snapped. “I- daddy, _ohhhh_!” He kept you close as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, drowning you in bliss until you trembled in his grasp.

A few minutes passed of Hannibal caressing your arms, back, and thighs with his fingertips while you caught your breath. When the pleasant fog finally cleared from your head, you sighed happily, pushing yourself up onto your knees so you could press a careful kiss to your father’s lips.

“Thank you, daddy,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Hannibal replied, brushing his lips over yours once more. “Was that your first orgasm, princess?” A confused expression crossed your features before you nodded, causing a pleased purr to erupt from Hannibal’s chest. So _that’s_ what just happened. “I’m so glad you let daddy help you. When you feel like that, just tell me and I’ll make it better again. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you exhaled, loose-limbed and content in your father’s arms. 

“Good girl,” he said, giving you a predator’s smile that was all crooked, sharp teeth as he began to pull your shirt over your head. “Let’s get you in the bath.”

Following that night, Hannibal had expected that your libido would be high; however, he hadn’t predicted just how ravenous you would be. Every day, you were waiting for him upon his arrival home, throwing your body into his arms and demanding to ride his thigh before he even had the chance to close the door. You’d also find him before bed more often than not, flushed from head to toe, your voice saccharine sweet as you begged for release and shook underneath his hands. It quickly became impossible to justify you sleeping in a separate room with the frequency you would end up in his bed. Still, he couldn’t deny you. The thought of missing even a single second of your arousal, of someone else causing your frenzied whines and open-mouthed looks of pleasure, was enough to make white-hot rage burn in his chest, the likes of which he hadn’t experienced since boyhood. 

“Wanna feel you, daddy,” you sighed, rubbing your cheek against his chest hair like a cat while your fingers played with his waistband. “I need you to help me.” You’d been unusually calm the past two days, satisfied with only slow, exploratory kisses at the door and your father’s arms around you as you drifted off to sleep. But, desperation had hit you like a freight train as soon as you’d begun changing for bed, driving you into his lap wearing nothing more than your underwear and bralette.

“Of course, little one,” Hannibal soothed, one hand petting through your hair as he lifted his hips, using the other to help you work his sleep pants down his legs. You tossed them to the floor impatiently, throwing one leg over his waist so that you could sit astride him and feel the length of his erection pressed against your core, separated only by the thin fabric of his boxers and your panties. He chuckled at your impatience, cupping his palms around your hips so that he could guide your rhythm as you rocked against him.

“Not _enough_ ,” you whined, looking up at your father with your lower lip trembling in anguish. He frowned at you slightly, pressing you down to increase the pressure, but you only wailed in response, tears leaking from the corner of your eyes. “I need more, daddy,” you sniffled, beautiful in your distress. “You said you’d help me, make it better.”

“I will, princess,” Hannibal promised, pulling you down to his chest and ignoring the dejected twitch of his cock when the contact with your body disappeared. “I’ll make you feel so good.” 

He gently rolled you off of him, a small gust of breath escaping your lips when your back hit the silken sheets. The sound, combined with the sight of you, nearly bare and so willing below him, made his mind go blissfully blank, everything else blurring until you were the only thing in focus. He ran his fingertips down your chest, fingering the edge of your bralette before travelling lower to pull the waistband of your underwear away slightly before letting it snap back against your skin.

“Can we take these off, mylimoji?”

You nodded, pulling the piece of fabric covering your chest off over your head while your father slid the other down your thighs, discarding it over his shoulder when it was free of your body. He looked down at you with hunger burning behind his maroon irises, his teeth itching to _bite,_ to mar the unblemished expanse of your skin. At the sight of the muscle in his jaw jumping, you reached both hands out to him and let your thighs fall apart, exposing the most private part of you to his gaze.

“Daddy,” you begged, wrapping your fingers around his forearms and tugging at him. Your cheeks were still stained with tear tracks. “Please touch me.” 

"Yes," Hannibal breathed, lowering himself onto his forearms to keep his body close, but his weight off of you. As he dipped his head down to kiss underneath your jaw and lick his way down your neck, he marveled at just how small you felt beneath him, your body still not quite fully developed. He could tell that you would be exquisite, more perfect than you already were. 

He would never, ever let another man have you.

Your body arched up against his, and Hannibal continued his exploration down your chest, nipping lightly around the growing tissue of your breasts before flattening his tongue and dragging its rough, wet surface over the hardening bud of your nipple.

" _Ahhh,_ " you moaned, writhing against the sheets as he blew cool air on the wetness he'd left, causing electric shocks to jump across your body. He always felt so good, and you whimpered when his lips closed around where his tongue had just been. Mind wandering as he teased you, you envisioned all the other places his mouth could be. At one particular thought, you twined your fingers in your father's hair, pulling him away from your skin as new wetness leaked from between your legs. "Daddy, maybe..." you halted your sentence, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth when you saw his nostrils flare. 

"Soon," Hannibal vowed, using every ounce of his control to hold himself back from burying his tongue in your folds that very second. Instead, he kissed and nipped his way down your stomach to your hip bone before leaning back, up and away from you, while his hands stroked your inner thighs. You whimpered pathetically at the loss of his warmth and contact. 

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, enjoying the sensation of your smooth skin beneath his palms, before he looked down at you once more with determination. He wanted to have you dripping with slick and sweat before he tasted you.

"So good for your daddy, princess," Hannibal whispered, just loud enough for you to hear as he ran the pad of his index finger up your slit, enjoying the small cry you released at the contact. "Can you feel how wet your pretty little pussy is for me?" He used his thumbs to pull your lower lips apart, mesmerized at how beautiful you looked, pink and glistening and spread out for him.

"This," he continued after a moment, "is your clit, baby girl." He circled it with a fingertip and you let out a choked moan, dropping your hands to cover your face. Gently, your father tugged them away, his eyes locked on to yours as he moved lower, tapping lightly over your entrance. "And this is where you'll take daddy's cock one day." 

"Now," you weakly demanded, but he only laughed.

"You're far too small," he teased. "It wouldn't fit." You pouted, and Hannibal leaned down to capture you in a kiss, worrying your bottom lip between his teeth until you gasped, giving him the access needed to lick deeply into your mouth. Your arms wound around his neck as you relaxed into his embrace. Taking advantage of your distraction, your father slipped his finger inside of you up to the first knuckle. 

" _Daddy!_ " Your voice raised to a scream as you pulled away from the kiss, your eyes wide and mouth open in a perfect o-shape. 

"Am I hurting you, beloved?" Hannibal questioned, but pressed forward anyways, sinking the digit further inside until it was fully inserted. Your fingernails scratched at his chest and over his shoulders, but he only leaned in to the pain, letting you leave angry, red scrapes across his skin. 

"No, daddy, it feels so _good_ ," you moaned, clenching rhythmically around the intrusion. Your father sucked in a breath through his teeth, slowly thrusting his finger in and out as he watched how easily, how _beautifully_ , you opened up for him. The sheer amount of lubrication leaking from your body created a wet, sloppy sound every time he entered it, and it was a sound Hannibal wanted to hear every day for the rest of his life. Coating his fingers was indisputable proof that you ached for him, just like he did for you. Another high, needy cry falling from your parted lips brought his attention back to your face, your cheeks tinted pink from desire and eyes half-lidded as you looked up at him. “Please, make me come.”

Unable to find another reason to deny you, Hannibal growled, repositioning himself so that he was on his stomach between your legs. He ran the tip of his nose up the crease between your thigh and your groin, inhaling your scent deeply. You smelled absolutely _divine_ to him, like the world’s most alluring perfume. Taking care to keep his finger pressed inside of you, he bowed his head, letting the very tip of his tongue brush you.

The sound escaped your throat was something akin to a sob, your thighs instinctively attempting to close and pressing in on either side of his head. Spurred on by your reaction, Hannibal slid his eyes closed and continued his ministrations, exploring every inch of you before drawing your clit between his pursed lips.

“ _Fuck, daddy,_ ” you cried, winding your hands in your father’s hair and pulling. One of Hannibal’s hands hooked behind your leg so that he could press his palm flat on your stomach, keeping your hips in place. With a careful flick of his tongue and the tip of his finger pressing against your inner walls, you were undone, tears burning your eyes once more as you came. “It’s so good.”

Moaning against you, Hannibal began grinding his hips down onto the mattress as he removed his finger. He dutifully lapped up every drop of your slick like he could subsist off of it alone. You shuddered through a second orgasm, still sensitive from your first. With your pretty moans filling his ears and the taste of you coating his tongue, your father also found his release.

You recovered first, panting and pawing at his shoulders until he moved up and pulled you into his arms, your head resting on his chest.

“Thank you, daddy,” you purred, wrapping your legs around his waist. “You’re the best.”

“Anything for you, little one.”

“And soon,” you continued, a smile gracing your lips, “I’ll be a big girl and able to take your cock.” Hannibal let out an answering groan, arousal flooding through him once more, refractory period be damned.

“Soon.”


End file.
